V- 



LIBRAP^ '^" nONGRESS. 

Chap. (opyriirht No» 



CINITl-l) STATliS OV AMERICA. 



MAR 29 1898 [] V g 

QUIET 
HOUR THOUGHTS 



BY 



/ 



MARY BUTLER TOUCEY 







C.:/^::>\ 



0FPU3E OF THE ^^' X ^ 

20207 MAR 29 I80S) 



NEW YORK 
PRINTED AT THE DE VINNE PRESS 

1898 






•52,36 



Copyright, 1898, by 
Mary Butler Toucey. 



CONTENTS. 



Dedication 


7 


My Love 


8 


Flowers in Winter 


9 


A Lullaby 


11 


Long Years Ago 


. 12 


True Love 


14 


Not Dead, but Sleeping .... 


. 15 


''Let Me Sleep" ...... 


16 


Blind Bartimeus 


. 18 


Forever One 


21 


Sweet Maid Marian 


. 22 


''Come Unto Me" 


24 


The Wonderful Ball 


. 27 


To MY Friend who Broke her Leg . 


30 


A Tin Wedding Anniversary 


. 32 


A Valentine 


34 


By Faith 


. 35 


One Day 


37 


" Well Done ! " 


. 38 


Our Faith 


40 


Our Home 


. 42 


"God Knows" 


43 


Golden-Rod 


. 45 


Our Silver Wedding Day .... 


46 


" In the Morning Sow thy Seed " 


. 48 


To-morrow 


49 



"Room, Mother Earth!" 

Daisies 

Only .... 

Love is Life 

My Crown 

Grandmother 

Eenewal .... 

Hearth and Home 

''Happier Now" 

April Rain . 

Happy Thoughts 

My Other Heart 

Changes .... 

Grow Not Old . 

To MY Husband 

Why should we Fear ? 

A Child's Thoughts 

Spring Time 

Life's Blessings 

''Awake and Sing" . 

"The Morn is Breaking" 

Easter Joy . 

"Christ our Lord is Risen To 

"Sing Alleluia" 

The Song of Salvation 

Christmas Morn . 



DAY' 



50 
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55 
56 
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64 
65 
67 
69 
70 
72 
73 
75 
76 
78 
80 
82 
83 
84 
85 
87 



QUIET HOUR THOUGHTS. 



QUIET HOUR THOUGHTS, 



DEDICATION. 

A fresh bouquet I bind for thee — 
Not rare nor gorgeous flowers, 

But thoughts that blossomed in my heart, 
And filled its quiet hours. 

And they are like arbutus vines 

That underneath the snow 
Hide bloom and fragrance in such nooks 

As only love may know. 

But if perchance you find a rose 

Full blossomed in the sun, 
Unconsciously it woke to life, 

Nor knew what it had done. 

But take them, darling, with my love ; 

And may these heart-born flowers. 
All unpretending though they be. 

Make bright some lonely hours ! 






MY LOVE. 

Should I bring thee all that my hands could hold 
Of gems most precious, of silver and gold^ 
What could they tell of the love that glows 

Deep down in my happy heart, 
Like the perfume hid in the heart of the rose, 

That is of the rose a part ! 

My heart is the casket, my lips the lid 
That shut so tight o'er the treasure hid. 
They will only in part the love disclose 

That rests in my happy heart, 
Like the perfume exhaled from the heart of a rose, 

That is of its life a part. 

No gifts can show, and no words can say 
The depths of this love that will live alway, 
Giving wonderful sweetness that daily grows. 

And brightens my happy heart ; 
Like the perfume undying within the rose, 

It is of my life a part. 



FLOWERS IN WINTER. 

Sweet friend, whose generous, loving hand 

Has sent these flowers to me, 
Gathered, methinks, from every land 

That borders every sea, 
I thank yon with a heart brimmed o'er, 
So full that it can hold no more. 

Sweet flowers ! you are not what you seem, 

For each is like a friend, 
A living form, or blessed dream 

Of love that knows no end ; 
I look to see a throbbing heart 
Within your petals as they part. 

For some are like my darling's eyes. 

So pure, so deep, so true ; 
And some are like the summer skies 

Of softest, tenderest blue ; 
While all seem much too bright and fair 
To blossom in earth's chilling air. 

Your inmost thoughts I long to reach. 

So human seems your gaze, 
Like children who have lost their speech 

And stand in strange amaze. 
And look with mute, yet sweet surprise 
In answer to my loving eyes. 
9 



You came in childhood's happy morn, 

Fresh from the heavenly ways, 
Where purity and love are born ; 

And in life's autumn days 
You come to teach me love's sweet strain, 
And woo me back to youth again. 

And why you droop, and why you die, 

I ask, with sad refrain ; 
And why our darlings silent lie. 

And why love brings us pain ? 
God knows ! And when we pluck His flowers 
Shall we not trust His love with ours ? 



10 



A LULLABY. 

Sleep, little one, sleep ! 
The sun has sunk low in his cradle to rest, 
The sleepy birds flutter to each downy nest, 
The drowsy flowers nod over Mother Earth's breast ; 

Sleep, my little one, sleep ! 

Sleep, little one, sleep ! 
And Mother will sing to you softly and low 
Of the sweet Mother-love that enfoldeth you so, 
While summer winds come, and winter winds go : 

Sleep, my little one, sleep ! 

Sleep, little one, sleep ! 
Some day you will long for the soft Mother-hands, 
For love that the dear God alone understands j 
But now we will travel to Happy Dream Lands : 

Sleep, my little one, sleep ! 

Sleep, little one, sleep ! 
Draw close the soft curtains down over sweet eyes, 
And nestle the dear head where Mother-love lies— 
The love that through good or through ill never dies 

Sleep, my little one, sleep ! 



11 



"LONG YEARS AGO." 

Long years ago, long years ago ! 

How round our hearts will throng, 
With those sad words, sweet memories 

That have been buried long : 
The vanished hopes of early days, 

The joys of life's first years, 
The merry laughter, fresh and free. 

The fleeting dewdrop tears ; 
The glad light kindles in our eyes. 

And in our hearts the glow. 
When memory brings again the joys 

That died long years ago. 

We clasp once more the little hands 

That lay so warm in ours, 
And wander forth with laugh and song 

To revel in the flowers ; 
We see again the same kind eyes 

That made our path so bright. 
Forgetting that the hurrying years 

Have shut them from our sight — 
Forgetting that the summer flowers. 

And yet the winter snow, 
Were pressed upon the forms we loved, 

Alas ! long years ago. 
12 



Long years ago, long years ago, 

Those precious links were riven 
That took our hopes away from earth 

And drew them nearer heaven ; 
Our childish fancy never placed 

Their home so far away. 
But on some high and sun-crowned hill 

The golden entrance lay ; 
And we have roamed for many years, 

But yet how very slow ! 
For still we seem no nearer heaven 

Than then, long years ago. 



13 



TRUE LOVE. 

True love is boundless as the arch of heaven 

That spans this world of care, 
And yields to whom its precious wealth is given 

A heritage most fair ; 
That reaches from the holy hush of even 

Down through the pearly rain, 
And morning song that to each day is given, 

Then up to dusk again ; 
An ever- widening circle, brighter growing. 

More holy, pure, and sweet, 
Till in the radiance of God's beauty glowing, 

Its joy is made complete. 

And you, dear heart, have poured this love 
unceasing 

Into my happy life. 
With every year and every day increasing. 

Since first you called me wife j 
And though some clouds have come, their 
shadows winging 

Across our changeful ways. 
Yet has my heart gone softly singing, singing 

Through bright or darkened days, 
Because I knew your love would fail me never 

Till death and time are done 5 
Then still grow brighter through God's vast 
forever, 

Where life and love are one. 



14 



NOT DEAD, BUT SLEEPING. 



Your darling is not dead, but only sleeping 

Within another room, 
Where Christ a watch of tender love is keeping, 

Dispelling all the gloom. 

Your Father's hand has locked the door of silence. 

That she may sweetly rest ; 
And though your love, with tears, would doubt and 
question, 

He knows, and does the best. 

And by and by His hand the door will open, 

That you may find her there. 
Sweet as when wakened from refreshing slumber, 

But grown surpassing fair : 

The beauty of her happy childhood keeping. 

Yet with the added grace 
Of love divine, that knows nor death nor sleeping, 

Transfiguring her face. 



15 



"LET ME SLEEP." 

" Let me sleep ! " the baby miu-mured ; 

So we watched with hushed delight 
While the blue eves slow retreated 

Underneath their curtains white ; 
Then we fancied angel fingers 

Gently touched her form and face, 
Softening every curve and dimple 

Into more angelic grace. 

" Let me sleep I " a maiden whispered ; 
" I have met with Love to-day. 
And no storms shall ever chill me, 

And no cares obstruct my way ; 
For his love will close enfold me, 

All his life to me is given ; 
Let me sleep and dream it over — 

Heaven is love, and love is heaven." 

" Let me sleep ! " with bitter wailing. 

Burst from out a broken heart ; 
"With earth's brightness, with earth's beauty, 
I no longer bear a part. 
I have been a wife and mother, 

All my path with joys was set ; 
Now a tempest has destroyed them — 
Let me sleep, and so forget." 
16 



" Let me sleep ! '' An aged woman 

Sought for rest with tottering feet. 
" Life has been so long a burden, 
Rest with Thee will be so sweet ; 
Thou hast taken all my loved ones 

Long ago to rest with Thee j 
Take me, oh, my Saviour, take me 
Where Thou keep^st them safe for me." 

^' Let me sleep ! " Oh, loving Saviour, 

Hear the cry from hearts that bleed ; 
Thou who knowest all our weakness, 

Koowest also all our need; 
Thou who art a faithful Shepherd, 

All Thy flock can safely keep, 
And when flesh and spirit faileth 

Give Thine own beloved sleep. 



17 



BLIND BARTIMEUS. 

Near Jericho's fair city, 

At the close of a summer day. 
Blind Bartimeus, son of Timeus, 

Sat by the dusty way ; 
And the stoniest heart was softened 

As he lifted his sightless eyes 
To the blue hills of Judea, 

Crowned with her matchless skies. 

And the neighbors paused a moment, 

With pitying look or word, 
As they thought of their bright-eyed children ; 

But one, whose heart was stirred 
With more than pitying kindness, 

Stopped on his homeward way, 
And sat by the side of the beggar 

To tell him the news of the day. 

How men and women were talking 

Of a wonderful Nazarene, 
A man of humble lineage, 

Of meek and lowly mien. 
And His followers are the poorest, 

Bartimeus, such as we — 
Laborers from the vineyards, 

And fishermen from the sea. 
18 



" They say that He teacheth the simple, 

That He loveth the children to bless, 
That He even healeth the sick folk 

As the multitude throng and press ; 
And each word as a gem most precious. 

As it falls from His lips, is caught ; 
And some venture to say 't is Messiah 

By whom they are healed and taught." 

" Ah, yes ! " interrupts Bartimeus, 
" He may teach the ignorant mind, 
He may help the sick and the weary ; 

Can He open the eyes of the blind 1 
Can He bring again the grandeur 

Of Judea's hills to mine eyes. 
Crowned with the blue and the purple 

Of her overarching skies? 

^' And the beautiful plains beneath them, 

Stretching so far before, 
With the lilies their bright cups lifting 

To my happy eyes once more ? " 
Hark ! there 's a sound of voices, 

And the tramp of many feet, 
Heavy, of men and women, 

And pattering of children sweet. 

" What is it ! " Bartimeus wonders ; 

" 'T is the Teacher of Galilee ! " 
" Oh, Jesus, thou Son of David ! " 
He crieth, ^' have mercy on me ! " 
But the multitude answer, not coldly, 
'' Our Teacher is always kind ; 
But who ever heard of a mortal 
Who could open the eyes of the blind ? " 
19 



But louder lie calleth to Jesus, 
" Son of Da\dd, have mercy on me ! " 
" Be of good cheer, Bartimeus. 

Rise, for He calleth to thee." 
Then quickly the hills bend downward 

To meet his wondering eyes, 
"While closety above and around him 

Seem pressing the radiant skies. 

And the beautiful plains of Judea 

Stretch onward whole leagues before. 
Uplifting their golden lilies 

To his wondering eyes once more ; 
But lost to him are theii' gi'andeur, 

Theu- beauty, and their gi'ace, 
For his opened eyes see only 

The love in the Master's face. 

And throwing his garment from him. 

He joins in the surging tide, 
Only pressing more closely 

Thau any, the Mastei^s side ; 
For surely He is the Messiah ! 

Did He not heed his call ? 
And giving him sight and freedom, 

Has He not given him all ? 

Oh, Saviour ! teach us this lesson, 

To cast awa}^ doubts and fears, 
And come to Thee, though in our blindness 

We see Thee onlj^ through tears ; 
Though the world ma}" entice with its grandeur, 

Its loveliness, or its grace, 
Over all, and through all, to see only 

The love divine in Thy face. 
20 



FOREVER ONE. 

" Till death us part " — not so ! not so ! 
Death cannot part us twain. 
What God has joined for weal or woe, 
Nought can divide again. 

What though Death's shadow rolls between 
Your clasping hand and mine, 

Yet each shall meet and rest unseen 
In one that is divine ! 

Till death unites — ah, blessed thought 
That sweetens bitterest pain ! 

Then all the sorrow death has wrought 
Shall turn to bliss again. 

If one miist wait a little space 

While one goes on before. 
Yet God is good, and God's sweet grace 
Will bring us surely face to face, 

And part us nevermore. 



21 



SWEET MAID MARIAN. 

Oh, our sweet maid Marian ! 

How we loved the child 
As she grew to womanhood, 

Pnre and undefiled ! 
While her beanty ripened 

Swiftly, year by year, 
In her glowing future 

What had we to fear ? 

Yet the fairest fruitage 

May be touched by frost. 
And the sweetest lily 

Chilled and tempest-tossed ; 
So we sometimes trembled 

Lest the years might bring 
To our cherished treasure 

Some unlovely thing. 

If you sent your darling, 

With your dearest friend, 
Where the skies of Orient 

Over her might bend, 
Where the old world pictures 

^Neath Italians skies 
Should be living glories 

To her wondering eyes ; ° 
22 



Though you sent her gladly, 

Masking all j^our fears, 
With a smile that covered 

Many unshed tears j 
Yet your heart would follow 

O'er the ocean wide, 
With an anxious trembling 

Lest some woe betide. 

Lest beside her pathway 

Lurk some unseen foe ; 
Or some baleful shadow 

Fill her life with woe 5 
Lest the friend you trusted 

With your treasure fail ; 
Oh, what nameless terrors 

Would your heart assail ! 

Oh, our sweet maid Marian ! 

Still we love the child ; 
Still her beauty ripens 

Pure and undefiled 5 
Through a new world's portals 

She has passed away 
To the bliss eternal 

Of unshadowed day. 

Not for her our doubtings 

What life holds in store ; 
She is home embosomed. 

Safe for ever more 
Where no pang nor sorrow 

Can her life assail, 
For the Friend who guides her 

Cannot faint nor fail. 
23 



"COME UNTO ME." 

" Come unto Me/' the gentle Shepherd calls ; 
Sweeter than song of bird His message falls. 

^' Come unto Me, ye weary wandering sheep ; 
Why will ye by the barren wayside keep ? 
Beyond, where I shall lead, the skies are fair, 
The pastures teem with herbage rich and rare ; 
There lurks no foe from whom ye fain would flee. 
For I am there, and all are safe with me." 

Pausing a moment in its careless play, 
A child makes answer, " Come some other day. 
For see how bright the flowers bloom round me now, 
No clouds are threatening on the mountain's brow ; 
I cannot leave my playmates and my play. 
Nor will they try with me this unknown way ; 
But when some danger dread and near I see. 
Come, call me then, and I will go with Thee." 

'' Come unto Me," again the Shepherd calls ; 

Like dew on thirsty flowers His message falls. 
" Why seek ye pleasures that shall gird ye round 

With bands that kill ere they can be unbound? 

Why drink from fountains that will make your thirst 

Greater than that with which you sought them first ? 

Why fill your life with cares that shall increase ? 

Come, f oUow Me to endless life and peace." 
24 



The careless child, now grown to man's estate, 
Is careless still, and trusts alone to fate ; 
He hears the warning voice, the pleading tone. 
But will not bid earth's pleasures yet begone, 
And answers quickly, " No, I may not go ; 
I love so well this ever-changing show 
Of power and beauty, pomp and worldly state. 
But I will leave them ere it be too late." 

'' Come unto Me," once more the Shepherd calls ; 

Like wine on parched lips his message falls. 
" Come unto Me, nor stay to gather gold. 

When I have wealth no tongue has ever told. 

To-day, if you will hear, and harden not your heart, 

Come share my love, and in my home have part ; 

Let but these few short days of earth be Mine, 

Eternal life, and all I have, is thine." 

The old man hears the sweet words as they flow 
Like some old song forgotten long ago — 
Some prayer with mother's hand upon his brow. 
Unsaid so long, 't is past recalling now; 
And as the Shepherd sadly seems to wait, 
He coldly murmurs, '^ No, it is too late ! " 
While farther on the sweet voice seems to flow. 
Nor brings to his dead heart one answering glow. 

" Come unto Me," the patient Shepherd calls ; 
Sweeter than angel songs his message falls. 
Not on his ear, who sighs, " Alas, too late ! " 
Nor strives to enter in the pearly gate ; 
But unto you, my darling boy and girl. 
Whose feet not yet have touched life's busy whirl ; 
Oh, heed His kindly call without delay, 
And by His side press up the narrow way. 
4 25 



What though it leads through weariness and pain, 
Hold fast His hand, and He will make it plain ; 
His arm shall be your shield when foes assail ; 
His love be true when earthly friendships fail ; 
His lips speak peace when storms and tempests rise, 
And angry clouds obscure the far-off skies ; 
His hand shall safely lead where troubles cease, 
Within that fold where all is love and peace. 



26 



THE WONDERFUL BALL. 

All through the sorrowful days of Lent 
A subtle something seemed to be blent 

With the solemn prayers, like an undertone 
Of happy laughter, piercing the moan 
Of heart-sick souls for sins unshriven 5 
But what meant the hurrying to and fro, 
And what the unusual bustle and glow 

Among men and women, both young and old? 
Surely none in society need be told 
That as soon as Lent was over and gone. 
And repentant souls had made their moan, 
The elite of the town would blossom out 
In wonderful clothes for a wonderful rout. 

At last came the night of the long-looked-for ball. 
And the beautiful mansion was all aglow 
From the spacious central hall below 

To the topmost height of the turrets tall. 

And such a procession came gliding in 

As never together before was seen : 

Figures from out of the dusky Past, 
Whose witcheries cast a glamour still 

Over the senses, and hold them fast 
With a feeling the Present can never fill. 

27 



Lords and ladies of high degree, 
Peasants and milkmaids charming to see, 
But a little mixed, as yon '11 all agree j 

For if in real life they were jumbled so, 

My lord on his aristocratic toe 

Would turn with a shrug of his shoulders, you know. 
So that only his stately back could be seen 
By the low-born maid of the humble mien. 

But here all are equal, and equally met ; 

No lines of distinction, no bounds are set. 
From the high-stepping princess with jewelled snood. 
To the quaint Dutch maiden with crumpled hood ; 

But yet 't is a little strange to see 

My lady of astounding pedigree 

With a cunning devil for vis-k-vis. 

Lo ! here is a face with a sunny glow, 

But night has been surely robbed of her queen, 

And the stars have given their silver sheen 
To bedeck her floating garments so. 

Here birds whose plumage is gay to see 

Hobnob with the cat, their enemy ; 
And wasp and hornet flit in and out. 

Airily spreading their gauzy wings ; 
But we feel no fear as thej^ circle about, 

For their honeyed lips hold no hidden stings. 
Many a king who has laid aside 
Long years ago his pomp and pride, 

Appears to us here for a little space 

To hold mimic court, and be called " Your Grace " ; 
Many a queen who, except in song. 
From this turbulent life has been banished long. 
Trails her gorgeous robes through this glittering 
throng. 

28 



But alas ! for the fading of scenes so bright, 

And alas ! that the morning must follow the night, 

And bright-eyed daylight come peering in 

Ere the last of the merriment ceases its din ; 
But what a complete satisfaction to know 

That everything was a grand success, 
A glorious pageant, a glittering show, 

A marvelous gathering of fashion and dress, 
Of flowers and jewels beyond compare, 
For wealth may revel in everything rare. 

But the sweetest thought most tenderly pressed 
To the heart of every departing guest 

Was the knowledge, so far as one was aware, 

That only the most select were there. 
Culled from the crowded city out. 
With a few from the country round about. 

These entered, unchallenged, the magic door ; 

These worthily crossed the threshold o'er. 
Who showily carried a golden key, 
Or boasted a long-lined pedigree. 
Yet I hear of a few poor, mistaken mortals — 

Unfortunate few ! — who were never invited 
To cross with proud steps those beautiful portals. 

Yet have not a thought that they have been slighted ; 
But go on their way with an every-day grace. 
Looking fortune and favor serene in the face. 

Not lacking in wisdom, not unknown to fame. 

But, sad to relate, not the " cr^me de la creme " ! 



29 



TO MY FRIEND WHO BROKE HER LEG. 

Have you ever read of Miss Kiliiiansegg, 
Who strutted about on a golden leg, 

Beeause she had lost her owu '? 
And seeing 't was such a costly thing. 
She thought it worthy for poets to sing. 

Much better than flesh and bone. 

And then, with her leg for a bait, she sought 
For better fish than ever was caught. 

And found but a selfish fooL 
Who proved himself, not a *' better half," 
For he only worshipped her golden calf. 

While she thought hiui her slave and t(.x>l. 

How little she knew of his greed and sin ! 
How she rued the day when she Uxik hitn in ! 

This wickedest type of men I 
Alas, for the fate of Miss Kilmansegg! 
He murdereil her for her golden leg. 

And what good did it do her then ? 

Now I don*t think it wise to moralize much 
To a body who 's flat on her back, and a touch 

Will make her shiver and squirm : 
I would only suggest in this simple way 
That you keep your own leg, and some lucky day 

You will find it strong and firm. 
30 



And yoii do not need, like Miss Kilmansegg, 
To buy a mate with a golden leg, 

For you have a man of your own, 
Who, rather than bow to a golden calf, 
Would kiss your big toe (now don't you laugh !), 

So 't was fashioned of flesh and bone. 

Then be patient, my dear, for a few days more. 
Though your leg may ache, and your back be sore, 

And the time drag heavy and slow ; 
For there 's always a harder lot than your own, 
Which some poor mortal must bear alone, 
And yours might be worse than a broken bone, 

As Miss Kilmansegg's fate will show. 



31 



A TIN WEDDING ANNIVERSARY. 

If I had but the pen and the wit of a Holmes, — 
Doctor Oliver Wendell, I mean, you know, — 

I would fashion my thoughts into graceful poems, 
Full of hearty words that should gleam and glow 

With sunshine enough to efface the stain 

Of this saucy, unwelcome April rain 
On this, your Tin Wedding Day. 

But though my Muse is not of the kind 
That warbles with ease at a hint or a touch. 

And though Oliver Wendell's prolific mind 
Of the English language has not left much 

For feebler singers to follow and glean, 

There still may be found a few words, I ween. 
For this, your Tin Wedding Day. 

May you never know more of trouble or care 

Than bef alleth your household to-day ; 
May your hearts be as happy, your skies as fair, 

As thus far on your flower-bordered way ; 
Yet 't were useless to wish for you none of earth's 

crosses, 
But may love and its gifts temper all of your losses, 
And bless each recurring Day. 
32 



May you make many friends, and keep them friends 
too, 

Not butterflies born of the sun, 
But friends whose devotion will still be as true 

When youth and your bright days are done ; 
Then when you look back, and Life's pages unfold 
From this Tin Wedding Day to your Wedding of Gold, 

May each one be a Red Letter Day. 



33 



A VALENTINE. 

Look at me, child, with your bonny blue eyes, 

And tell me a story sweet 
Of the strange new world that before you lies ; 
Has it cloudy ways, has it sunny skies, 

Spreading onward before your feet ? 

Be good, do good with a purpose strong ; 

Then no matter what winds may blow. 
You will speed the right, you will conquer wrong, 
You will learn that no shadows can linger long 

Where love keeps the heart aglow. 

And love, the sweetest and purest, I pray. 

Be your guard and your guide. Baby mine. 
To keep you, enfold you, and bless you alway. 
As closely and surely as mine does to-day. 
And would ever, my sweet Valentine ! 



34 



BY FAITH. 

I know that this strange life of ours 

Is but the entrance gate 
To that new life beyond the stars 

Where beckoning angels wait ; 
But right and wrong, and good and ill, 

So closely seem allied, 
I hesitate which road to take, 

Or wherein to abide. 

But could I walk beside my Lord 

Along life's treacherous way ; 
And listen to the gracious words 

That pass His lips each day ; 
Could I but see His loving eyes. 

And clasp His gentle hand, 
Perchance this life's bewildering maze 

I then might understand. 

And where I falter now and shrink. 
Nor know which way to turn. 

His clearer sight the better way 
Would easily discern ; 
35 



Aud walking in the clear-cut path 

Made by His firmer feet, 
Self-love would be forgotten quite, 

And duty would be sweet. 

Ah ! child, the soul that leans upon 

Anothei-^s strength and might. 
Will never reach to victory, 

Or climb the mountain's height ; 
The purest and the strongest souls 

This world has ever known, 
Have di'unk the bitter wine of life 

In sorrow and alone. 

The tenderest parent must sometime 

Let go the clinging hand, 
That so the little, trembling child 

May learn alone to stand j 
The path of safety often leads 

Tlirough shadows of the night, 
Where tliej^ who follow Him must walk 

By faith, and not by sight. 

The many failui-es on your way 

O'er which you truly mourn, 
The sore temptations overcome. 

The trials bravely borne. 
Will bring the strength for which you crave, 

The peace for which you pray. 
Till some day you shall know His hand 

Has led you all the way. 



36 



ONE DAY. 

Storm and sunshine come and go ! 
Such is life ! now joy, now woe ! 
Lightning flashing, thunder pealing, 
Sheets of rain the light concealing, 

And the heavens are like a pall. 
Peace ! the clouds are northward drifting ; 
Look! the heavy veil is lifting, 

And the sunbeams sift through all ; 
On the now relenting sky 
See the bow of promise lie. 

Every life is like this day ; 
Light and shade contest the way ; 
Though we bend the fierce storm under, 
Yet beyond the rolling thunder 

May we hear our Father's call ; 
And though woes fall dark and dreary, 
And though life be long and weary, 

God's smile shines beyond it all ; 
Sweet the bow of promise given. 
Circling earth and reaching heaven. 



37 



To my beloved Rector, on the tiventy-fiftJi anniversary 
of his ministry in St. Thomas^ Church. 

"WELL DONE!" 

Servant true of the living God, 

Toiling through many a changing year, 
Following the way that thy Master trod, 

Sometimes with gladness, often with fear ; 
Faithfully dropping the blessed seed 

Where He has given it to thy hand, 
Whether upon the dewy mead. 

Whether upon the parched sand: 

Sometimes seeing the glad seed spring 

Forth into leaf, and bud, and bloom ; 
Often watching the wild thorns cling. 

Giving the roots nor life, nor room ; 
Yet with a faith that trusted all 

Unto His care who marked the way, 
Thou hast but followed His earnest call. 

Patiently working day by day. 

Morning of life is thine no more ; 

Noontide of vigor has come and gone ; 
Still doth the Master walk before. 

Bidding thee follow faithfully on ; 
What though the shadows of evening fall. 

Yet has He work for thee to do, 
Hearest thou not His strong voice call, 
" I will thy failing strength renew " 1 
38 



Then with fresh hope press steadily on, 

Sowing the seed that His love has blest ; 
Not looking back to the years long gone, 

But still beyond to His promised rest ; 
Then when His harvest fields are white, 

All from the deathly Reaper won. 
Clear may'st thou stand in His searching sight, 

Hearing His blessing of praise : " Well Done ! " 



39 



OUR FAITH. 

Though infidels may laugh to scorn 

This simple faith of ours, 
That sees a resurrection morn 
In every little flower that 's born 

In earth's glad springtime hours, — 

Yet of all truths that I have learned 

This seems to me most sweet, 
That "loved ones lost" but go before, 
And wait upon another shore 
Our lingering steps to greet ; 

That the dear forms that we have laid 

Reluctantly away. 
The little buds that early died, 
The flowers that blossomed at our side 

For many a summer day, 

When earth's short seasons all are o'er, 

Will greet our wondering eyes 
In brighter robes than here they wore, 
In bloom that fadeth nevermore. 
Beyond- these wintry skies. 
40 



And partings never seem so sad, 

Nor hopes and wishes vain, 
Since faith may reach the sinking heart, 
And whisper there that though we part, 

'T is but to meet again. 

Perhaps not in this shadowy clime, 

Or 'neath these changing skies, 
Where clouds shut out the heaven serene, 
Where doubts and jealousies between 
The dearest friends arise ; 

But surely in that " Better Land " 
Where Christ, His love to prove, 
Stands waiting with an outstretched hand 
To guide us o'er earth's treacherous strand, 
And fold us in His love. 



41 



OUR HOME. 

O Thou, whose ever watchful care enfolds 

All earth and all above, 
Keep safe from harm the sweet home-nest that 
holds 

The dear ones whom I love. 

But why should I with selfish love or fear 

Ask only this of Thee, 
While other homes to other hearts are dear 

As this of mine to me ? 

Then keep, my Father, 'neath Thy loving eye 

And in Thy guarding hand, 
All other homes in peaceful rest that lie 

Within my native land. 

Yet why should I, with selfish love or fear, 

Ask only this of Thee ; 
While other lands to other hearts are dear 

As this fair land to me ? 

Then keep, my Father, wheresoever they lie 

Upon the broad earth's breast, 
All homes beneath Thy watchful, loving eye, — 

And mine among the rest. 



42 



^^GOD KNOWS." 

I have but one, an only son : 

God gave him in my youth to me 5 

And sometimes up the coming years 
His manhood's way I long to see 5 

But through the future's heavy veil 
No light, no sign can I descry, 

And, baffled, I can only say, 
" God knows, — not I." 

From all the suffering of the way 

My loving heart would sure recoil ; 
My blinded eyes would fail to see 

The mountain-top beyond the toil ; 
And so I lead him step by step. 

Nor strive to know the reason why 5 
But with my hand in God's, I pray, 

^^ Lead Thou! — not I." 

Whether among earth's noble ones 

My darling boy shall write his name, 
Or if among earth's lowly ones 

He treads a path unknown to fame, 
I know who guards with loving care, 

Sleeping or waking 'neath His eye ; 
And so I say with childhood's faith, 

" God knows, — not I." 
43 



And if his path be rough and steep, 

Or if it wends through bitter pain, 
I still can trust the love that leads 

Through blood, the victory to gain 
The richest verdure needs the ck)uds, 

The brightest gems in darkness lie. 
So I can trust my darling where 

" God knows, — not I." 



44 



GOLDEN-ROD. 

Oh, golden-rod ! fair golden-rod ! 
You bravely deck the barren sod ! 

By wayside path, or crumbling wall, 

You stand alone, erect and tall, 
Or cluster many a nodding plume, 
Or lift close tufts of golden bloom. 

And varied forms of beauty show, 

That only they who love you know. 

Oh, golden-rod ! bright golden-rod ! 

You brightly gleam and gaily nod 
O'er barren hills and thirsty fields 
Whose sullen mold scant verdure yields : 

Like Love who will her beauty take 

To hide all faults for love's sweet sake, 
And make the hearts that seem so cold 
Grow warm and bright with love's rich gold. 

Oh, you were fashioned, golden-rod. 
Most deftly by the hand of God ; 

Then are you surely fit to grace 

Within my home a royal place. 
Making therein the shadowed room 
Sunny and bright with golden bloom. 

As love has made my warm heart gay 

These years since our glad wedding day. 
Proving, though all things else grow old, 
Love dietli not, nor groweth cold. 



45 



OUR SILVER WEDDING DAY. 

One day — it seems the shortest time ! — 

When love and I were young, 
And light and beauty 'round our way 

With every thought was flung, 
We started forth with highest hopes, 

Unheeding wind or weather — 
My love and I, clasped hand in hand, 

To try our lot together. 
Some friends there were to bid us hope 

That life would be all sweetness, 
Well rounded out from flower to fruit, 

Both perfect in completeness ; 
While others croaked of care and toil 

To work our love's decay ; 
But what cared we for prophecies — 

It was our wedding day ! 

Why should we number the years that are lying 

This side of that day of bliss? 
They seem but oie day, upon fleetest wings flying. 

One sky arched from that day to this. 

Love is the charm that has bound us together. 
Close, and still closer, with years ; 

Laughing at time, defying all weather, 
Undimmed by the bitterest tears. 
46 



What were life worth, with its hard lines of duty 
Pressing all bright joys above — 

What were life worth, although glowing with beauty, 
Yet missing the sweet flower of love ! 

Seeming so many, how soon they Ve passed over — 

These happiest years of my life ! 
And still I cling close to you. Husband and Lover, 

And still I 'm your own " Sweet Wife." 

And could I backward trace my steps 

Beyond that happy day, 
And choose among the flowery paths 

That bordered all my way, 
No heart more firm to lean upon, 

And trust, could I discover — 
No warmer hand-clasp than my son^s. 

And yours, my Husband-lover ; 
My ear would turn with eager haste 

To catch the earnest voices 
That thrill me through and through with words 

O'er which my heart rejoices ; 
And I would choose the same warm hand 

To clasp mine own through life. 
And follow gladly lips that call 

" Dear Mother " and " Sweet Wife." 



47 



"IN THE MORNING SOW THY SEED." 

Sow, ere the evening falls, 

The seed within thy hand, 
Along the furrows at thy feet, 

Or broadcast o'er the land. 

Sow heartfelt deeds and prayers, 
Nor question where they lie, 

Assured that not the smallest one 
Escapes the Master's eye. 

Sow with no selfish aim. 
For soon the time will come 

When He who sifts the chaff from wheat 
Will call His harvest home. 

Sow all in faith and love ; 

Though late the gleaning be, 
How sweet to hear Him say at last, 

"Ye did it unto Me"! 



48 



TO-MORROW. 

My heart is overflowing witli gladness to-day, 

But how will it be to-morrow ? 
A song of joy, and a snnny ray, 

Or a cup of bitter sorrow ? 

My darlings are gathered around me to-day j 
Oh, where will they be to-morrow ? 

But why should I look for a shadowed way. 
Or why should I trouble borrow ? 

The strength that I have is not my own. 

Except as I lean in meekness 
On Him who would not that I walk alone, 

Who strengtheneth all my weakness. 

And so, if my darlings thither roam. 

Or if in my arms I gather 
My loved ones all in the nest at home, 

I will lean on my loving Father ; 

And know that He sees all the way beyond 
Where my blinded eyes are groping, 

Where my heart, too foolish perhaps, and fond. 
Would faint with its fearing and hoping. 

And so if the day that I look for come 

Full laden with joy or sorrow, 
I ^11 trust to my Father to bring me home. 

With my darlings, some bright to-morrow. 



"ROOM, MOTHER EARTH!" 

Room, Mother Earth, upon thine ample breast ! 
A little child, a broken bud, has come with thee to rest; 
The drooping lids are folded now above the sparkling 

eyes 
That looked not often down to thee, but oftener on 

the skies ; 
The warbling voice that to our hearts made music 

all day long 
Has sung no more since first we heard the blue-bird's 

early song ; 
Then 'neath the first sweet grass of spring we '11 lay 

her down to rest ; 
Room, Mother Earth, our broken bud would lie upon 

thy breast. 

Room, Mother Earth, upon thine ample breast ! 
A maiden fair, a blighted flower, has come with thee 

to rest ; 
The slender heart-strings that were swept so gently 

by love's tone, 
Lie crushed and broken 'neath a grasp whence love's 

soft touch hath gone. 
Where sighing winds and singing birds may o'er her 

vigils keep. 
Perchance our broken-hearted one may calmly, 

sweetly sleep ; 

50 



Then 'neath the summer blossoms we will lay her 

down to rest ; 
Room, Mother Earth, our blighted flow'r would lie 

upon thy breast. 

Room, Mother Earth, upon thine ample breast ! 
A manly form, a fallen leaf, has come with thee to 

rest; 
The powerless arm that erst was strong to battle in 

the strife. 
Can wield no more its mighty strength amid the 

storms of life ; 
The tenement is cold and still from whence great 

thoughts found way 
To stir the souls of other men beneath their powerful 

sway ; 
Then, 'neath bright autumn's drifting leaves we '11 

lay him down to rest ; 
Room, Mother Earth, the fallen leaf would lie upon 

thy breast. 

Room, Mother Earth, upon thine ample breast ! 
A wasted one, an aged tree, has come with thee to 

rest ; 
A marble hand has rested long upon his furrowed 

brow, 
And earthly hopes and high resolves are all forgotten 

now; 
The chilling winds have rudely swept around this 

ag^d form. 
And silently, yet patiently, he 's bowed him to the 

storm ; 



51 



Then under winter's mound of snow we '11 lay him 

down to rest ; 
Room, Mother Earth, the ag^d tree would lie upon 

thy breast. 

Room, Mother Earth, upon thine ample breast! 

Still, still our loved and cherished ones would come 
with thee to rest ; 

We clasp them closely, one by one, within our warm 
embrace. 

But thou canst find for all alike a welcome resting- 
place. 

The spring buds burst, the flowers bloom, the leaves 
of autumn fall ; 

And winter snows in calmness lie alike above them 
all; 

But still the cry comes forth to thee, " Oh, give an- 
other rest " ; 

Room, Mother Earth, our weary ones would lie upon 
thy breast. 



52 



DAISIES. 

How glad am I that daisies grow 

By every dusty way, 
Making a poem bright and fresh, 

For each tired summer day ; 

And that your thoughtful kindness stooped 
To pluck these common flowers. 

And send them bound with nodding grass 
To brighten passing hours ! 

I called them common — God forgive ! 

Touched by His hand divine, 
Has He not raised them, like the stars, 

Beyond all praise of mine ? 



53 



ONLY. 

Only a few words softly spoken, 

But with such true love filled 
They entered a heart that was almost broken, 

And its wild fever stilled. 

Only a smile that beamed and brightened 

Over the dearest face, 
But it touched a soul that was sad and frightened, 

And blessed it with tender grace. 

A word to-day, or a smile to-morrow, 

Lovingly, freely given. 
May lift a soul from the depths of sorrow 

Up to the heights of heaven. 



54 



LOVE IS LIFE. 

Many years have we lived together, 
Equally sharing their changing weather ; 
One in our joy, and dreading no sorrow. 
Knowing each heart would be true for the morrow ; 
With love growing every day brighter and purer, 
With love growing every day stronger and surer, 
What care we that they call us " old lovers ? " 
Far better that than to be old rovers ; 
For since you first gave me this sweet name, " Wife," 
Life has been love, and love has been life. 

Happy years ! how soon they 've passed o'er us ! 
God only knows how few lie before us ! 
Earth has not many for those who live longest, 
But over death's might we know love is strongest ; 
And God, who has taught us to call Him our Father, 
AU His dear children in one home will gather. 
Then in that new world where death cannot sever, 
Love will enfold us more closely forever ; 
And though only here you may call me " Sweet Wife," 
Yet life will be love there, and love will be life. 



55 



MY CROWN. 

I wear a crown to which might bow 

The proudest earthly queen, 
Yet jewels never span my brow, 

Nor in my hair are seen. 

Its priceless worth, its preciousness, 

No words can fitly tell ; 
None know the treasure I possess 

Save those who love me well. 

And yet my crown reflected gleams 

Within my happy eyes. 
As clearly as in crystal streams 

The glory of the skies. 

Though time and age may work their best 

Its beauty to deface, 
Yet rust or stain can never rest 

Upon its matchless grace. 

All earthly honor and renown ♦ 

I hold it far above — 
My jewel fair, my spotless crown 

Of happy wedded love. 



56 



GRANDMOTHER. 

She sits in the corner singing, 

With a voice so soft and low, 
The songs she sang to her babies 

In the summers of long ago — 
The beautiful, happy summers. 

With life and with love aglow, 

When her darlings were all about her. 
And the touch of their dimpled hands 

Thrilled her through and through with the rapture 
A mother alone understands ; 

And their kisses were far more precious 
Than the jewels of many lands. 

Now the years have furrowed with wrinkles 

The face that was once so fair, 
But it wears a gentler beauty 

'Neath its crown of silver hair. 
Telling its story of patience. 

Learned in a life of care. 

Her once springing step goes faltering 

Along the half unseen way ; 
Her ear hears but faintly the voices 

That flutter around her to-day ; 
But through years that have vanished, she catches 

The glee of her children at play. 
8 57 



Our boy comes often at twilight, 

From his play, to sit at her knee, 

Pleading, " Tell me a story, Grandma, 
Of your young days that used to be, 

When my uncles were little children. 
And papa a boy like me." 

So carefully folding her knitting 

Under her withered hands, 
She gathers together her life threads, 

And holding the broken strands, 
She weaves them till each fits the other, 

And all to a story expands. 

For though husband and sons have been taken, 
And daughters laid low side by side ; 

While hopes that clung brightly around them. 
With them in their graves have died ; 

Yet always her words are cheerful, 
As though by no sorrow tried. 

But her cup has been brimmed with sorrow 
That would make the strongest shrink. 

Her hopes and her joys have been severed 
Ruthlessly, link by link ; 

Yet reaching life's farthest threshold. 
She calmly looks over the brink. 

Perhaps she waits but a little, 

To teach us some lessons still 
Of patience under the guidance 

Of a loving Father's will, 
And of cheerfulness, though with sorrow 

Life's cup He sees best to fill. 

58 



For this world is to her but the shadow 

Of a brighter one to come ; 
And her feet are nearing the river 

Beyond which they long to roam, 
Where her childi-en are watching and waiting 

To welcome the mother home. 

Yet still we cling to her closely, 
And while she lingers we pray 

That God spare her a little longer, 
Or give us her spirit to-day, 

That we may teach others the lesson 
When the mother is called away. 



59 



RENEWAL. 

Withered and dead ! the sweet flowers that we gather 

Fresh in the morning are withered at eve ; 
Scarce have we leai-ned in their beauty to love them. 

Ere in their fading they teach us to grieve ; 
Winds of the autumn and snows of the winter 

Scatter their leaflets, and cover them o'er. 
And in the blindness of childhood we mourn them, 

Thinking their beauty will greet us no more ; 
But when the wai*m, sunny days of the springtime 

Come with their gentle and life-giving tread, 
Gladly we gaze on their fresh bloom, forgetting 

That we had grieved for them, withered and dead. 

Withered and dead ! the bright hopes that we cherish 

Glow like the starlight, but fade ere the day : 
Though they may come at our bidding to cheer us. 

Yet as we grasp them they vanish away ; 
As we look backward, and over Life's river, 

Transient as bubbles they break on the shore, 
Like a sweet dream of the night-time they bless us, 

But in the morning remembered no more. 
StiU vainly striving to pierce the dim future. 

Fainting with sorrow and blinded with tears, 
Other hopes rise in the distance before us, 

Lighting the pathway that leads through the 
years. 

60 



Oh ! may we not when the journey is ended, 

Weary and fainting we sink on the shore, 
Find that the angels have garnered our treasures 

Where they will wither and vanish no more : 
All our sweet flowers in their unfading beauty, 

Brighter by far than when watered by tears ; 
Hopes all fulfilled with sure promise of yielding 

Harvests of fruit through eternity's years. 
We will not mourn then for hopes that have vaDished, 

Flowers that have withered, though they were 
fair. 
But with an eye of faith gladly look heavenward. 

Trusting that angels have gathered them there. 



61 



HEARTH AND HOME. 

How sweet to look back to the days wlieu iu gladness 
We danced from tlie heivrtlistoue to play or to 
school ; 
When life, just beginning, knew nought of life's 
sadness, 
For home was our Eden, and love was its rule. 
Each day. filled with joy. made the far-off to-morrow 
Seem bright as the sunshine and light as sea- 
foam, 
For joy wa.s all heightened, and banished all sorrow 
By Mother, who smiled from the hearthstone at 
home. 

Oh. the old hearth at home ! 
The de^ir hearth at home ! 
We *11 love them forever, our own hearth and 
home ! 

How oft they have rung with our echoing laughter 

When shadows of evening were gathering gloom, 
While stories, and music sweet following after. 
And bright faoes filled all the shadows with 
bloom I 
Dear brothers and sisters, who clustered around ns, 

Xo matter at midday how far we might roam. 
For surely at evening the strong ties that bound us 
Would g;\ther the flock round the warm hearth 
at home, 

62 



oil ! the old hearth at home ! 
The dear hearth at home ! 
We '11 love them forever, our own hearth and 
home. 

And evening is coming; the dear home above us 
Holds some who have laid down the cross for the 
crown ; 
But others there are who are left still to love us 

And wait for the call to lay life's burden down. 
Not here; for the old home is filled with strange 
faces, 
Our weaiy feet never among them may roam, 
But mem'ry and love fill up all the old places 

And center their light 'round the old hearth at 
home. 

Oh ! the old hearth at home ! 
The dear hearth at home ! 
"We '11 love them forever, our own hearth and 
home. 



"HAPPIER NOW." 

I met her iu the morn of life, 

A bud with gk'>wiug leaves, 
As beautiful, as fair aud pure. 

As nature's hand e'er weaves. 
I w^atehed her while the light of truth 

To her young soul was given ; 
I saw the smile that lit her brow, 

And knew the seal of Heaven. 

I lingered till another leaf 

Had opened in her life, 
Her hand was in another phieed. 

And loved lips murmured, '' Wife " ; 
I saw the smile her childhood knew 

Grow brighter on her brow. 
And asked her why the smile was elianged. 

She whispered, " Happier now." 

We met onee more, the chain of love 

That bound her here was riven ; 
The bright life leaves were closed on earth, 

To open new in heaven ; 
Her childhood's smile, the seal of Heaven, 

Still lingered on her brow, 
And as I gazed upon her there, 

I whispered, " Happier now." 



64 



APRIL RAIN. 

Like the songs of birds sounds the April rain 

As it falls on the roof to-night, 
Like forgotten words from some old refrain — 
Forgotten long years, and remembered again. 

It filleth my heart with delight. 

And it bringeth me treasures of Long Ago, 
That I thought I should see no more : 
There are beautiful tresses untouched by snow, 
And the sweetest of lips whence love words flow. 
And the garments that loved ones wore. 

Oh ! the treasures it bringeth are dearer far 

Than the costliest gems could buy — 
My childhood's home from the past afar. 
Where my beacon of hope, and my guiding star, 
Was the light in my mother's eye. 

I am bendiYig again at my mother's knee, 
While her arm is around me thrown ; 

And her voice, as she murmurs a prayer for me, 

Is thrilling my soul with its melody. 
With its low and musical tone. 
9 65 



You have brought me a blessing, sweet April rain, 

You have flooded my heart with delight, 
You have cleansed from my spirit each hateful stain, 
You have summoned my angel of childhood again 
To watch o'er my slumbers to-night. 

He will banish away all feverish dreams — 
All dreams of this earth and its care ; 
He will tenderly lead me by soft, flowing streams, 
Where the light of God's beauty for evermore gleams. 
And my treasures will all be there. 



HAPPY THOUGHTS. 

I have been thinking, and the bygone years, 

Laden with treasures richer far than gold, 
Come to me fresh as when with smiles or tears 

I walked their pathways in the days of old ; 
Then the blue veil that hung 'twixt earth and heaven, 

Seemed clear and cloudless as the dawn of love, 
And the bright hopes that to my heart were given 

Were only just my eager grasp above. 

Father and Brother, clasping each a hand. 

Led me awhile along my childhood's way, 
Sister and Mother made the perfect band. 

That only death's strong grasp could break away ; 
There were loved voices floating on the breeze. 

Sweet song and laughter full of heartfelt glee. 
And the dear home beneath its sheltering trees, 

Seemed like a paradise of love to me. 

I have been thinking, and those bygone years, 

Laden with treasures richer far than gold, 
Come to me fresh as when with smiles or tears 

I walked their pathways in the days of old. 
Though they were happy, I would not turn back, 

E'en were it given to tread the life path o'er, 
Though the dim future seems a shadowy track 

Stretching I know not to what length before. 
67 



And though thick darkness shrouds the way afar, 

Yet by an unseen hand the clouds are riven ; 
And sometimes, by the glimmer of a star, 

My eye of faith looks on and up to heaven. 
Then, trusting in His love who watcheth over all, 

We ^11 meet the future, thou dear one and I, 
Waiting and listening for the angels' call 

To join them in their home beyond the sky. 



68 



MY OTHER HEART. 

Beating with mine own heart, 

Ever keeping time, 
Like the measured numbers 

Of a poet's rhyme, 
Falls another heart-beat. 

Ever pure and true, 
As on thirsty flowers 

Falls refreshing dew. 
Never mind how distant, 

Though 't were either pole, 
Still its love would reach me, 

Thrilling all my soul. 
Surely as the summer 

Blossoms come and go. 
Surely as the winter 

Bringeth sleet and snow. 
As the gentle springtime 

Comes with flowers and rain, 
As the bounteous autumn 

Bringeth fruit again. 
Will this other heart-beat 

Fall upon mine own. 
With the sweetest music 

I have ever known ; 
Like the echoing numbers 

Of some music rhyme. 
Beating with mine own heart. 

Keeping perfect time. 



CHANGES. 

Oh ! changes will come to this world of ours, 
Will set their seal on the fairest flow'rs, 
Will darken the light in the brightest eye, 
And turn the laugh to the heart-wrung sigh. 
The laughing child at the early dawn 
Bounds forth with a step like the leaping fawn, 
But the laugh is hushed ere the noonday sun. 
And the step grows slow ere the day is done ; 
And another morning we look in vain 
For that little form in our path again ; 
There ^s a slower step, and a thoughtful brow — 
The child that we knew is a woman now. 

The sunlight lay on the cottage floor. 
Like a thread of gold, in the days of yore ; 
But shadows play with the sunbeams now, 
And shadows linger around my brow. 
For voices that once sent a joyous thrill 
To my loving heart have long been still ; 
And hearts that I thought could never grow cold 
Have lain long years 'neath the rain and mold. 
Ye are fearful workers, O Time and Death ! 
Ye darken the eye, and ye hush the breath ; 
Ye are ever changing this world of ours. 
Unsparingly reaping both grass and flow'rs. 

70 



But though joys that were mine have gone to decay, 
Though hopes like the sunbeams have passed away, 
Though hearts that I trusted grow cold to me, 
Yet still, dear friend, do I lean on thee. 
I lean on thee, and I feel no fears 
As my soul looks on to the future years. 
But say to my soul, though these changes be. 
There is still one heart will be true to thee ; 
One friend to love, though all others change. 
Who will never in life grow cold or strange 5 
And when Time and Death for their harvest come, 
Will love thee still in another home. 



71 



GROW NOT OLD. 

Keep your heart from growing old ; 

Then your pathway through the years, 
Though it be not paved with gold, 

Still shall not be wet with tears ; 
Care and trouble overmuch 

Dim the eye and cloud the brow, 
More than Time's corroding touch, 

More than you may dream of now. 

Ever to your inmost heart 

Draw love's sunshine and its dew ; 
Then the little buds that start 

Shall expand in flowers for you. 
Shut not out one kindly thought ; 

It will grow to loving words, 
Sounding to some aching heart 

Sweeter than the songs of birds. 

Strive to keep your spirit bright ; 

Strive to keep it pure and fair, 
Meet for robes of spotless white. 

Meet to dwell where angels are ; 
Then shall Peace with folded wing 

Find within your heart her throne, 
Then the songs that angels sing 

Shall be kindred to your own. 



72 



TO MY HUSBAND. 

Sweet Spring lias come to warm the earth's cold 
bosom ; 
To fling her glories over hill and plain ; 
To throw aside cold Winter's snowy mantle, 

And don her robe of green and flowers again. 
Light, dancing feet are tripping o'er the hillside, 
And fair, soft hands the buds and blossoms 
twine. 
And songs of praise well up from each glad bosom 

That find an answering echo deep in mine. 
I thank my Father for the earthly blessings 

• That He has given with such free hand to me ; 
But most of all for thee, my own beloved,— 
Yes, most of all for thee ! 

For what to me were life, and light, and beauty, 

Without thy loving presence here to bless? 
And what to me the touch of Spring's soft kisses, 

Without thy cheering smile, thy fond caress ? 
Thy smile can scatter sunbeams o'er my spirit, 

Where erewhile shadows gloomily have lain ; 
Thy voice can thrill the heart-strings that have 
slumbered. 

And bid them wake to joy and hope again. 
I thank my Father for the earthly blessings 

That He has given with such free hand to me ; 
But most of all for thee, my own beloved,— 

Yes, most of all for thee ! 
10 73 



I lay my head upon my pillow nightly, 

With the sweet thought that thy true heart is 
mine ; 
And in my dreams my spirit seeks thy presence, 

As turns the pilgrim to some holy shrine. 
I go about my daily round of duties 

With step as light as this sweet springtime air ; 
And ever in my heart a blessing for thee, 

And ever on my lips a voiceless prayer. 
I praise my Father for the earthly blessings 

That He has given with such free hand to me ; 
But most of all for thee, my own beloved, — 

Yes, most of all for thee ! 



74 



WHY SHOULD WE FEAR? 

Why should we stand with lingering feet, 
With trembling heart and stifling breath, 

Before the darkened bridge that spans 
The narrow river we call Death ? 

Beyond are fairer lands than ours, 

A fresher air, a purer sky, 
Where lovers pale buds unfold their flowers. 

No more in cold neglect to die. 

If we but grasp the outstretched hand 
That reaches through the dark to guide. 

Surprised, our faltering feet shall stand 
Full soon upon the other side j 

And looking forward from the gloom, 
Full morning breaking on our sight, 

We '11 know we Ve reached our Father^s home. 
Where never more is said '^ G-ood-night.'' 



75 



A CHILD'S THOUGHTS. 

The garden was full of sweet roses 

But a little while ago 5 
The meadows were sprinkled with daisies 

Almost as white as the snow. 

The river went singing softly, 

The wind murmured low and sweet, 

And scattered soft rose leaves like fairies 
All over my dancing feet. 

The wheat-fields nodded a welcome 

Whenever I went that way j 
The butterflies flitted around me, 

And all was so merry and gay. 

Not a rose blooms now in the garden, 
The meadows are bare and brown j 

There is nothing left of the summer — 
Not even the thistle-down. 

The birds have forgotten their singing, 
The flowers have forgotten their friend j 

I did not dream that the summer 
So soon would come to an end. 
76 



I have sung all day like a robin, 
I have been like a butterfly gay, 

And the nights were as good as the mornings. 
So sweet was the rest after play. 

But why should I try to be happy 
If everything bright must fade ? 

If I must grow old like the summer, 
I cannot see why I was made. 

" The shadows come from within you, 
And so does the sunshine too ; " 
That 's what Mother told me this morning. 
And what Mother says must be true. 

But how shall I make it shine through me. 
For I 'm neither a fairy nor elf? 

Mother says, " By working for others, 
And not thinking so much of myself.^' 

So I '11 try to be bright and cheerful. 
Making sunshine wherever I go ; 

That the winter may shine as the summer. 
And the summer may come ere I know. 



77 



SPRINGTIME. 

Old 'Winter scurries swiftly, 
And hither comes the May-time, 

While Earth awakes her children, 
Who think it must be playtime. 

But with a gentle shaking, 

She says, " No time for playing j 

But do your work right bravely, 
And then may you go maying." 

So fairy Grass, upspringing. 

Throws off her dull brown bedding. 
And in its place a carpet 

Of tender green is spreading. 

The family of Wild Flowers 

Each baby bud is lifting 
To catch the warm, bright sun-rays 

That over them are drifting. 

The brooks throw off the rubbish 
That Winter has collected 5 

And laugh and sing, though really 
There 's more than they expected. 

78 



The little birds are nodding 
Their happy heads together, 

Not like us, silly mortals, 
Discussing wind or weather. 

But, " It is time for building," 
They say to each new-comer ; 
" The branches of the maples, 
Throw out a hint of summer. 

'' The peach buds and the apple 
Are peeping forth with blushes ; 
The bushes by the wayside 
Are ready for the thrushes." 

^^ Old willows by the river 

Have set their pennons swinging. 
And everything around us 
Some new work is beginning." 

Then, to us children nodding, 

They sing, " Though it is May-time, 

Let ^s do our work right bravely, 
And thus we '11 earn our play-time. 

" Let 's brighten up our working 
With whistling or with singing j 
So when our tasks are ended. 
We '11 think them just beginning. 

" For hearts and hands together 

Make hard work glow with beauty ; 
For happiness, my darlings. 
Goes hand in hand with duty." 
79 



LIFE'S BLESSINGS. 

• 

" Coop ! Mama come and find me," 
I hear a sweet voice say ; 
And with love's ready footstep, 
I hasten to obey. 

With quiet, eager hurry 
I search in every nook ; 

Impossible to find him 
In places where I look ! 

Among the books and pictures. 
Beneath the easy-chair ; 

Except just where he 's hiding, 
I seek him everywhere. 

Until at last, pretending 
My search is all in vain, 

I say, ^* Where is my Blessing ? 
He must say ' Coop ! ' again." 

How quickly comes with laughter 
His answer in my ear : 
" Why ! can't you find me, Mama ? 
I 'm right behind you here." 

80 



I shower his face with kisses, 

I fold him to my breast, 
Where, when with play aweary, 

He always comes to rest. 

And with my precious darling 

Asleep and fairly caught, 
I ponder o'er the lesson 

His little play has taught. 

How many eager seekers 

Go groping all life's way. 
With outstretched hands overreaching 

The blessings of each day ! 

While close beside them lurketh 
The beauty and the bloom -, 

Too near them blush the roses, 
Too close the sweet perfume. 

Oh, eager, anxious seekers. 

Why look so far away *? 
Life's richest treasures cluster 

About your path to-day. 

Look not so far beyond you, 

But see them at your feet. 
Not crowned with wondrous beauty. 

Perchance, but full and sweet. 

Then lift them up right gladly. 
And fold them to your breast j 

Their love will bring contentment. 
The want of it, unrest. 



11 81 



^' AWAKE AND SING." 

Isaiali xxvi. 19. 

Oh ! awake and sing, 

Ye that dwell in the dust ! 
Let the whole earth ring 

With yonr song of trust ! 
For your dew is the dew 

Of the opening flower, 
And your soul shall renew 

Its strength and power. 

For your life is hid 

With your risen Lord ; 
Then who shall forbid 

That you trust His word ? 
Not death, nor the grave, 

Can your body chain j 
For He died to save, 

And is risen again ! 

He has risen again. 

And set wide the door 
That by sin and pain 

Was shut fast before ; 
Now through death's dark night. 

And the grave's sad way, 
Shines the glorious light 

Of your Easter Day. 

Refrain. Then awake ! 

Oh ! awake and sing ! 



"THE MORN IS BREAKING." 

The morn is breaking in a wondrons light 

This blessed day, 
Dispelling all the blackness of the night 

In one glad ray 5 
For through the dawn that breaks the midnight 

gloom 
We see God's angels at the empty tomb. 

The tomb where once our dearest and our best 

Were buried deep ; 
Whence nought availed to still our wild unrest, 

Or break their sleep ; 
Where hope breathed not of any life again, 
And love seemed but a memory of pain. 

But oh ! what joy is shining through our tears 

This blessed day! 
What alleluias conquer all our fears 

This Easter day ! 
For now through Christ, who died and rose again, 
We know our hopes and longings are not vain. 

No more amid the shadows need we grope, 

Blinded with tears 5 
Forever with us lives this deathless hope, 

Calming our fears. 
That with our Lord, who gave us life and breath, 
We, too, may rise triumphant over death. 



83 



EASTER JOY. 

Every flower that blossoms 

Fresh from moldy earth, 
Sings of resuiTection, 

Whispers of new birth ; 
Every plant that, dying, 

Seems to meet decay, 
Only waits in patience 

For an Easter day. 

Seeds of promise, scattered 

Over all the land, 
Spring to life and beauty. 

Guided by God's hand ; 
And our souls, more precious 

Than all earth beside, 
Surely shall awaken 

At some Easter-tide. 

Then let hearts and voices 

Easter anthems sing j 
Then let alleluias 

Through the glad earth ring. 
For our Christ has risen, 

And beyond the grave. 
Over death and sorrow. 

He is strong to save. 



84 



^CHRIST OUR LORD IS RISEN TO-DAY." 

Christ our Lord is risen to-day ! 

How our hearts are bounding 
As we hear the joyous lay 

Through the world resounding ! 

Christ our Lord is risen to-day ! 

Words of glorious meaning ! 
Richest kernel in the sheaves 

Of the old years' gleaning ! 

We have traced His weary steps 

Through the desert places, 
We have looked with pitying eyes 

On the scornful faces 5 

Heard the rabble's naocking jeers 
As they gathered 'round Him ; 

Felt the tightening of the cords 
As they rudely bound Him. 

With the Marys we have wept 

Tears of bitter sorrow ; 
Dreading all the loneliness 

Of the coming morrow. 
11* 85 



But our Lord has risen to-day ; 

Every heart is swelling, 
As His ministers of love 

These glad words are telling. 

There is joy in every heart — 
Joy in earth and heaven — 

For the glorious promises 
That to-day are given. 

Every soul is newly born, 
And our songs of gladness, 

Breaking on this happy morn, 
Hush each note of sadness. 

Even now may faith's clear sight 
See heaven's open portal, 

For with Him we rise to life — 
We, too, are immortal. 



86 



"SING ALLELUIA !^^ ^ 

Sing, loving hearts ! Death's power no more 

Can fill you with dismay, 
For Christ has opened wide the door 

That leads to endless day. 

Sing Alleluia ! 

Sing, weary hearts ! Christ speeds the time 
When, with no cares oppressed, 

Your feet shall reach those heights sublime 
That promise perfect rest. 

Sing Alleluia ! 

Sing, mourning hearts ! the grave's dark way 

Leads upward to the light 
Of that most perfect Easter day 

That knows nor grief nor night. 
Sing Alleluia ! 

Sing, happy hearts ! this Day of days 

To all the world belongs ; 
Then let all raise glad hymns of praise 

To join the angels' songs. 

Sing Alleluia ! 



87 



THE SONG OF SALVATION. 

Once when the world lay aweary 

Under the kingdom of wrong, 
Over the hills of Judea 

Floated a wonderful song ; 
Only a few poor shepherds 

Heard it, and heeded it then : 
" Grlory to God in the Highest, 

Peace and good will to men ! '^ 

Up from the slumbering ages, 

All through the years gone by, 
Swelleth the song that the angels 

Sang to the earth and sky — 
Song of a world's salvation. 

Wonderful now as then: 
" Glory to God in the Highest, 

Peace and good will to men ! " 

Now from the loftiest temple. 

Now from the lowliest home. 
Over the world's wide borders, 

Up through the heaven's blue dome, 
Ringeth the song of redemption. 

Blessing, where woe hath been : 
" Glory to God in the Highest, 

Peace and good will to men ! '' 



CHRISTMAS MORN. 

How darkly dawned the morning, 

So many years ago, 
To longing hearts that, waiting, 

Beat wearily and slow ; 
For He, the great Deliverer, 

So glorious in song, 
So wonderful in story, 

Came not, though promised long. 
Yet He was born 
That distant morn, 
So far away, 
So near to-day. Alleluia ! 

They longed to pay Him homage ; 
They longed to call Him King j 
They talked of all tne honor 

His glorious reign would bring ; 
Yet were their eyes so blinded 
They could not see the star 
That guided to His cradle 
The wise men from afar. 
For Christ was born 
That distant morn, 
So far away, 
So near to-day. Alleluia ! 

89 



How brightly dawns this morning, 

This merry Christmas day, 
On lofty and on lowly ; 

For none can say Him nay, 
Who comes with love to succor 
The homeless and oppressed, 
To give the slave his freedom. 
To bring the weary rest. 
For Christ is born 
This Christmas morn. 
Not far away, 
But here to-day. Alleluia ! 

In palaces of beauty 

He dwelleth not apart, 
But makes His lowly temple 

In every loving heart ; 
Then let our happy voices 
The highest praises sing 
To Him, our Elder Brother, 
Our Saviour and our King ! 
For He is born 
This Christmas morn j 
He holds in sway 
The world to-day. AUeluia ! 



90 



